


Jagged Lines

by Siarh



Series: Jagged Lines Series [1]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siarh/pseuds/Siarh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol and Daryl are my OTP without a doubt. They are perfect together. However I have a hard time believing she would be able to trust a man so quickly after Ed's death. I had a close friend who suffered from abuse related PTSD and she had serious issues in her relationships with men as a result. So this is my take on the start of Caryl. I have not seen any of Season 3 nor read the novels yet so forgive my imagination where it doesn't quite match up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Daryl's lips were on hers before she could even blink. Hard, insistent. His hands gripped her, one at the back of her neck, the other at the base of her spine, just above that ass of hers. He pulled her closer, his body flush against hers. He was only a head taller than she, her body almost perfectly melding to his. He gripped her tighter, his kiss deepening at the startled sound she made. How long had he thought about this moment? How long had he waited to do this? Too fuckin' long.

Panic flooded Carol's mind, as the metallic taste of blood hit her tongue. Self preservation responses that had been hardwired into her brain after 20 years of marriage to Ed kicked into place. Her body stiffened, her kiss was automatic, cold and detached.

As quickly as he had initiated the kiss, Daryl pulled back, his eyes focusing on hers. He felt a punch in his gut as he saw the panic stricken look that flashed over her face, to be replaced by a wooden smile. Dropping his hands from her, he stepped away, first bringing his hands up to run through his hair, then flinging them down to his side, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Daryl was so fuckin' stupid. He knew what her old man was capable of. Well he hadn't known know but he fuckin well coulda guessed. He had seen the same looks Ed had given Carol as Daddy Dixon had given Daryl's momma.

He watched her wrap her arms around herself clearly ashamed of herself. He reached one hand out. "Look, Carol-" she flinched, subtly but still enough for him to notice. "Fuck." One hand went to tug on his hair, the other resting on his hip. "'M sorry," he started, his eyes staring beseechingly into hers. For a split second he saw at least a dozen emotions skid across her face before she settled on humiliation. And tears shining in her eyes, she turned and bolted.

"Fuckin' hell."


	2. Chapter 2

It was 4 days before Daryl was able to corner Carol to talk to her. Until then she hid herself in plain view, always ensuring someone was in the room with them, always ducking out before he noticed. On the fourth day, he excused himself from watch duty, and every other duty until he could work this out with her. Rick had only nodded, not asking questions. It was hard to not notice something had shifted between the hunter and the mother hen.

Daryl found her in the pantry of the kitchen, organizing the perfectly sorted shelves. He had stealthily watched her since breakfast, trying like hell to not spook her, but at the same time not letting her slip away without a trace. He had waited until everyone else had gone about their day, leaving the kitchen area. He flipped the lock on the main door, ensuring everyone else could go fuck themselves til he and Carol could figure this shit out.

She heard him before he entered the small room, coming to stop in the only doorway. Carol's heart pounded in her chest, her body tense, a ringing in her ears. Fight or flight crashed into her hard as she glanced over her shoulder to see him leaned agains the door frame, arms and legs crossed where he stood, blocking her only way out of this room. How could she be so stupid.? All the years with Ed, always making sure there were multiple ways out of every situation she might be in had become second nature to her. But yet she let Daryl catch her in the small 10 by 6 room filled with shelves on either wall, with nowhere to go. Her breath caught in her throat. Bile hit her tongue.

Carol had been avoiding him, she didn't know what to say to him. She knew what he wanted from her and she wanted to give it to him. But... But... Hell... She couldn't even come up with a good but. She could deny her feelings, she could hold her breath to try to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest, she could try not to inhale the smell of him that made her stomach flip flop and a warm pleasant burning below that. All of that would happened at the sight of him from a distance, let alone when he had pressed himself against her.

But she was useless. Ed had told her that on numerous occasions, daily, hourly, especially when he was fucking her. Oh and there was no other word for what Ed did to her. Fucking. Hard, brutal, make her ache for days in a not good way fucking.

What the hell would a man like Daryl Dixon want with a used up shell of a woman anyway? The only thing she was good for was cooking and hell everyone else in the group could do that too, so she wasn't anything special. Daryl should be giving those glances to someone else, anyone else but her. Maybe it was the fact she was literally the last available woman on the planet for him. She sighed to herself. Outside of Beth who's Daddy would have Daryl's ass in a sling for even glancing at her, Carol was it. At least until they ran into another group of survivors. And who the hell knew when that would happen.

And on top of that Daryl already focused too much on her, making sure she was ok. He made sure whenever they encountered walkers he knew exactly where she was at all times. If he didn't have her in his sights, he made damn sure Rick or T-dog did. She was the weak link in his impervious armor. She couldn't let herself be more of an Achilles heel for him than she already was. If this whatever the hell they had would progress into a relationship, he would probably do riskier things to make sure she was safe. She would not be able to live with herself if she caused him harm that way.

"Hey." Daryl said softly, startling her even though she knew he was there. Her body jerked, her eyes closing briefly, a hushed sigh escaping. "Sorry," he muttered.

Not turning toward him, she shrugged her shoulders. "'S ok,". She tucked a can of beans neatly against the others.

He sighed. "We need ta talk, Carol."

"Oh?" was her only response. She tried to be casual, as if she was clueless what he was getting at. But the hyper awareness in her voice fooled neither of them.

Shoulder still on the door, Daryl pivoted into the room toward her, further restricting the space in the pantry. He did not miss the way she pressed closer to the far wall. As if she willed herself through the plaster. He sighed and made himself to stay put.

He was never good at this shit. But this was Carol, someone who he cared about more than anyone else in his life, ever. So he needed to do this right. Of course he had done a real fuckin' good job so far.

But what the fuck did he know about talking to women? He hadn't, ever, been with a woman who was more to him than a lay. He had let alcohol and drugs do the talking for him, loosening panties at the merest glance, slightest brush of his hand, and a fuck-her-up-against-the-wall kiss.

Daryl sighed and uncrossed his arms, running one through his hair, and chewed on his bottom lip. 'Oh for fucks sake you pussy. Man up already.'

"About ta other day," he started, making her hands stutter against another can of vegetables. He sighed again, trying to find the words. He had been so anxious about getting her alone to talk, he hadn't even thought about what he actually wanted to say to her.

Carol tried to relax, she tried to. She just couldn't. She couldn't breathe much less stop her body from shaking. God she had been free of Ed for months now and she couldn't get over the hell he put her through.

She  **KNEW**  it was Daryl that stood in that doorway. She knew it was the man who risked his own life to bring Sofia back to her. It was the man who never gave up on her girl, who was almost as crushed as Carol was when Sofia stepped out of that barn. A man who went out of his way to protect her, and would never intentionally hurt her.

But when she closed her eyes all she could hear was Ed's voice, feel his anger. His fury stretching out to her even from the grave.

As her chest tightened, she gulped for air, slumping her forehead against the cool metal of the shelf in front of her. Her world spun. She couldn't stop it. God what was wrong with her?

Next thing she knew she was wrapped in someone's tight embrace, warmth from their body radiating into hers. She heard a voice growl softly in her ear, all manners of mumbled reassurances and concern but she did not hear any of it. Her brain went blank with fear and she stiffened, her forearms braced against the chest in front of her, her elbows ready to thrash out at the embrace.

"Whoa whoa whoa there Carol," Daryl harshly let out, feeling her body spring into fight mode. He wasn't letting her go, but he also did not want to get punched. He did the wrong thing and tightened his arms around her. The constriction was intended to keep them both from any harm, but instead it triggered her to fight. She struggled so hard she managed to wiggle one hand out and reached up, her hand and nails coming in contact with his neck.

"Whoa! Carol! Fuckin' stop it! It's me!" he snarled at her, refusing to let her go until her fingers swung by his eyes. Self preservation won out and he let her go, ducking out of the way. As soon as she felt his arms relax a hair, she shoved at him with all her strength and sent him back onto the shelf, losing his footing. He fell, crashing onto his elbow, his hard head thunking against the bottom shelf of the racks.

His eyes lost focus for a second but he saw her form bolt out of the door. He struggled to his feet as he heard her pound the flat of her hand against the door to the kitchen. The one he had locked. In her panic, she did not think to flip the lock and just struggled with the handle. She yelled for help, and he knew it was a matter of time before her screams drew someone to the kitchen. Not sure what else to do for her, he let her scream and pound until her voice became hoarse. He leaned against the prep table, pressing a towel to his neck.

 _This had gone well, you asswipe_ , he thought to himself as Rick's panicked face appeared in the window of the door Carol was sobbing against.


	3. Chapter 3

Rick left the infirmary to check on Daryl, who was sitting on a stool in the hall, his neck wound being tended by Maggie. "Watch it," the man hissed at her. She set aside a wad if bloody gauze on the table beside her as Rick walked behind her. Daryl's eyes opened and met Rick's, his demeanor completely changing. "How is she?"

Rick nodded. "Sleeping."

Daryl relaxed and closed his eyes. "Good," he sighed. "Any permanent damage?"

The sherif settled himself against the wall opposite them and shook his head. "Nothing that wasn't there before, I'm guessing."

Dixon just gave on understanding jerk of his chin before closing his eyes again. "How's the elbow?" Rick asked Maggie gesturing to Daryl's arm in a sling.

She and Daryl answered at the same time. "Swollen but not broken". "Hurts like a motherfucker."

* * *

"How about you tell us what happened in the kitchen?" Rick asked as Hershel settled onto the chair Maggie vacated to head back to the rest of the group. Rick thought it best to get this squared away, just the three of them to figure out what had happened. The sherif in him had already put a few things together, without being told anything.

Rick had opened the door with the keys in his hand, ones he had pulled off a guard somewhere. Carol had jerked the door open as soon as she heard the lock click. She ran straight for their leader and collapsed in his arms. Rick stared over her head at Daryl, looking at a loss, sitting on the stainless steel prep table, holding a bloody rag to his neck.

Hershel and Rick sat in the hallway in silence as Daryl tried to tell them what happened. Cupping the uninjured side of his neck, he tool a deep breath, and exhaled harshly out of his nose. "I went ta go talk ta her," his eyes drifted at the closed infirmary door. "We had shit to talk about, ya know?"

Rick shook his head. "No Daryl, I don't know. What did you need to talk to her about?"

"Fuck," Daryl arched his head, back his eyes trained on the ceiling. "A couple days back we... Well I... Shit. I kissed her. Ok?" He stopped for a second gathering his thoughts, as his cheeks and ears turned red. "'N I scared her, I'm guessin, cuz she just fuckin' took off.". He looked up at the other two men, his eyes resting on Rick's face. "I wanted ta apologize, but she was avoiding me, so I guess, shit, it was so fuckin' stupid. I cornered her in the pantry.". His hunter instincts should have warned him that was a bad idea. He didn't think much of it cuz they had gotten so close over the past few months, since Sofia's death. He would have sworn Carol woulda never have thought he meant her ill will.

Rick nodded, his eyes looking down at the floor. That was a stupid move on Daryl's part. Rick had dealt with enough abused spouses in his line of work to know that the victims tended to have post traumatic stress syndrome, even when they were good and safe from their abusers. Cornering Carol had been a bad idea. And her panic attack had been a direct result.

Daryl thunked his head back against the wall. "'N she tried to pass out or somethinm'. I caught her 'n," his hands flew up to the bandage. "She freaked the fuck out. 'N headed for the door."

"You raise a hand to her, son?" Hershel asked.

Daryl's eyes snapped open, his feet settling on the floor. "My neck may be red, Grandpa," He stood and towered over the vet. "But my hands ain't."

Rick's hand landed on Daryl's shoulder as the two men stared at each other. "Sit down. One of us had to ask that." The dirty look was turned on him.

"Fuck ya both," Daryl growled, throwing Rick's hand off of his person. "You two don't know the first thing about me 'n Carol.". He moved away, walking toward the door to the infirmary. "I would never lay a hand on her. She's had more'n enough of that for 10 life times," he said his gaze fixed on the sleeping form on the other side of the door.


	4. Chapter 4

"Carol's not feeling well," Rick began telling the group. A concerned murmur went through the group, eyes meeting. The man raised his hands, trying to reassure them. "Nothing to be alarmed about. She didn't get bit. Just gonna need a couple days to recoup." The group continued to softly murmur. "Until Hershel gives the go ahead, she needs her rest. So we are going to restrict access to the infirmary to just Hershel and Maggie for at least the next 24 hours. I know you all wanna let her know you're thinking if her, but she needs this." He paused and looked at Daryl in the back of the group, trying his best to look as inconspicuous as possible. Rick looked back over the group. "We are gonna need to figure out who's picking up the cooking. Volunteers?"  
...

"Daryl?"

Maggie rubbed her hand across her eyes before reaching for Glenn's arm. Blinking in the dark, she realized she wasn't in their cell. She was on Carol watch in the infirmary. Pushing the blanket off, she sat up and turned on the lantern on the table between the two beds.

Carol's eyes creaked open, looking weary. She was laying on her side, tears pooling on the pillow below her head.

Maggie sat down in the stool by the bed, reaching for Carol's hand. "You ok Carol? You need anything?". The older woman's eyes squeezed shut, her grip loose in Maggie's hand.

"No," she croaked, her voice sounded painful.

"Should try to get some rest," Maggie suggested.

Tears still flowing, Carol nodded before pulling herself into a tighter ball. "I didn't mean it," she choked out.

Maggie was brought up to speed by her dad and Rick. She knew what had transpired between Carol and their head redneck. She didn't need to ask what the sobbing woman was talking about. "He knows that, honey."

"Ed-" Carol's tears and sobs got harder, her breathing more shallow.

"Oh honey, I know. I know," Maggie tried her best to reassure the other woman. She had not known Carol's husband but had heard from Glen how horrible the man was to the frail woman. He had also told Maggie what Carol had done with the pick-axe.  
...

Up in his own bed, Daryl wasn't sleeping any better than Carol and Maggie. He tossed and turned, thrashing through the blankets, trying to find a comfortable position for his elbow and neck to stop throbbing, trying to will his brain to shut the fuck up!

He never meant to scare her. If he could go back and take back the kiss, he would. He was such a jackass.  
...

"She al'ight?" he asked Maggie as she pulled the medical tape off of his neck to check the scratches the following morning.

"She had a hard night," the woman confided. "But she's up. Was reading when you knocked. I'm sure she will be glad to have some of the breakfast you brought us. She hasn't had anything since yesterday morning." Maggie tried to smile at him, her head inclining towards the tray he brought with him.

He just nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. His face looked drawn. "You get any sleep?"

He winced as she yanked the last of the tape from his skin. "Not ahella alot."

Maggie nodded and silently cleaned some of the dried blood from his skin. "She's ok, you know. She's just afraid you're mad at her."

Daryl's eyes flashed. "Why in ta hell would I be mad at her?"

A cool finger landed on his neck. "Cuz of this," Maggie shared softly.

"I've had worse," his brow puckered. "Hell damn near had one Merle's bitches break my nose once." He paused. "But I deserved that 'n too."

Maggie grinned, she couldn't help it. The more time she spent around him, the more she had grown to like Daryl. He was a good man despite his rough and tumble exterior.

Maggie wasn't stupid. Hell no one in the group was stupid. They had watched Carol and Daryl grow closer, ever since Sophia disappeared. It was just a matter of time before something shifted. This wasnt the shift they were expecting. "You wanna see her?"

He looked down at the woman cleaning his neck. "Can I?" he asked hopeful.

Moving back from his personal space, Maggie wadded up the bandages and tape, tossing them and the gloves in the trash. She put her hands on her thighs, nodding absently. "Let me talk to Dad and Rick, but I know she'd like to see you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I am having a hard time making Daryl talk to Carol. I will be forcing him through the door today and see if maybe we can get this worked out before the end of the day. They better, I've already started two other fics with them in it. But we are all aware of how compliant Daryl Dixon can be. Wish me luck!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm not sure how I did it but I managed to write ths chapter in a little less than an hour. Not bad considering the two characters in my head kept telling me no.

 

Daryl's hand rested on the handle of the infirmary door, his eyes closed and his forehead on the cool metal. He felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You know what you're gonna say, man?" Rick asked from behind him.

"Not a fuckin clue," Daryl muttered. "Why's women so damn difficult?"

Rick let out a soft snort behind him. "If I had answers to that, you think I'd have the troubles I've got?"

A twitch of a smile appeared on Daryl's face. "You always been this good at pep talks,  _jeffe_?"

And with a tight squeeze on his shoulder, Rick walked away, leaving Daryl alone with his own thoughts as he watched Hershel fuss over Carol through the small glass window.

Once the older man was done, he opened the door, his eyes falling on the sleep warn man. "You look like shit," he muttered.

"That an official diagnosis, old man?" Daryl snapped wearily.

Hershel just smiled, a genuine smile that reached up to his eyes. He liked Daryl, it was hard not to once you looked past the redneck exterior. The man had a heart of gold, and will of iron. And he wasn't stupid, not hardly.

Hershel stepped forward and clapped a hand on the hunter's shoulder. "It seems to be going around," he offered softly. He walked into the hall, gesturing for Daryl to follow him. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you this. But I'm gonna anyway. Take it easy on her." Daryl opened his mouth to argue but Hershel shut him up with a finger pointed at the younger man's chest. His voice was soft, full of concern, despite the warning message. "I'm allowing this because she wants to talk to you. And she seems ok today. But you notice anything, and I mean anything, that looks like what she did yesterday and you back off, you hear me?"

Daryl exhaled through his nose. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Then go make this right." Hershel smiled at him one more time before settling on the chair in the hall.

Gathering his nerves, Daryl clenched and unclenched his fists and headed into the open doorway.

Carol was sitting up on the bed, listening to the hushed conversation on the other side of the open door. She couldn't hear the words, but she knew Daryl's voice when she heard it, and it set the butterflies in her stomach into a whirl wind of activity. Was she 12 again? My god. She forced her eyes to stay on the pages of the book Maggie had brought her but she kept going over the same line over and over again, since her brain was a fury of activity. What was she gonna say to him? How could she make up for their last two interactions? How she wished she was strong like Andrea and Maggie. Carol highly doubted either of them ever cowered to man. She couldn't let Ed taint the rest of her life. He was a horrible man, who did such demeaning and hideous things to her, things she knew in her heart of hearts most men would cut their own arms off before doing to a woman.

And Daryl. Shit. Daryl. On the surface it looked like he was no better than Ed. Not a hair different. But she knew better. She knew what he was capable of. His unerring belief that her girl was ok was the  **only** thing that kept her sane when Sophia went missing. And the knowledge that Carol wasn't the only one suffering the loss when they finally located her daughter kept her from doing anything rash through the course of her grief.

They got along so well after that. Even though he had lashed out at her shortly after they buried her little girl, she knew he was not lashing out at her. He was grieving the only way he knew how, the only way he was taught. Hide and subterfuge. Smoke and mirrors. She had seen through it for what it was and her love for him grew as her heart ached to make it right for him, to show that her daughter hadn't died because he failed. He had done more than anyone could have asked of him, more than Carol would have asked of him. He gave her hope, and she strived to return the favor.

Over the winter months they had grown closer. It was inevitable really. Groups and pairs naturally formed with in any party of people, it was human nature. She and he were the two outsiders besides T-dog, the ones who had no one to look to when things went wrong, when tears needed to be shed, when mental wounds needed tending, when thoughts needed to be thought out.

Carol did not know when her feelings shifted from love to something deeper, more meaningful. She found herself thinking things she had thought about with Ed but with a different reason in her mind. She found out what some of his favorite foods were, incorporating them more into the meals when she could. She wondered absently if he would like something she wore. She wanted to please him but not the same way she wanted to please Ed. With Ed it was all about self preservation. If Ed didn't like something, Carol would pay. In the case of Daryl, she did these things out of her growing love and adoration of him, of the group's hunter.

She also had to admit to herself, part of her attraction to Daryl was due to his prowess as a hunter, a provider, a protector. She had never had a man in her life that fit that bill, neither her father, brothers or husband. She suppose it was something primal in her brain, stemming back to when humans were evolving, made her want to lie with Daryl, bear his children and other Biblical type phrases that popped in her head, making her smile for a split second.

A soft 'hey' startled Carol out of her thoughts. She pulled her hands away from her face, to see Daryl taking slow steps back toward the door, one hand out stretched toward her. "Sorry," he muttered, looking like he was ready to rabbit.

Carol smiled at him, one hand waving him toward her, as the other wiped absently at the tears she didn't even know she shed. Daryl grabbed a box of tissues from a shelf on his way by and offered them to her. "How ya doing?"

She took the box from him and deposited it by her side, fishing one cloth out. She waved a hand toward the stool at the side of the bed. "I'm ok. How are you?"

He watched her wipe at her face. "I'm ok, I guess."

"You look as good as I feel," she teased him, a natural smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Daryl chuckled and ducked his head for a second, wiping his hand over his stubbled chin. "I suppose I do."

She patted the side of the bed, shifting herself over to make room for him to sit. He stared at her for a second, trying to decide if moving closer to her was a good idea.

"C'mere," she muttered. "I promise I won't bite.". She paused. "Or scratch this time." she said it with a teasing tone, and Daryl had no choice but to grin at her. This conversation wasn't going to be easy for either of them, and he was glad to hear some levity in her voice.

He pursed his lips "Psh. I've had way worse," he assured her, moving to sit in the open spot on the bed. His grin faltered though as his mind went blank. Completely as he looked into Carol's eyes. He saw a light there that has been missing for sometime, he was pleased to see it return. And he had forgotten why he was there.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," she started.

Daryl gave her a questing glance. "What ta hell for? You didn't do nothin," he insisted.

Quirking her eyebrow up, she pointedly looked at his neck. "I drew blood."

"After I went n did a damn fool thin' by cornering you in that tiny room. I didn't think-"

It was Carol's turn to cut him off. "How were you supposed to know? I didn't even know until it happened.".

He looked down at the hands clenched in his lap. "I shoulda," he said softly.

Carol wiggled her hand in between his, gently pulling one free, plunking it into her lap. Turning it over, she ghosted a finger over the lines, callouses and cracks on his palm. "Naw," she concluded. "You arn't omnipotent Daryl. How would you have known?"

He shrugged, watching her fingers move over his skin. "I don't know."

Carol grinned at him. "Neither of us are mind readers and I think that's a big problem for us."

He looked up at her, his brow puckered in confusion. "Wha-" He had no idea what in the hell she was talking about.

She smiled wider at his confusion. "We aren't very good at figuring the other out cuz neither of us are very good at talking about feelings, our feelings." She glided all of her fingers across his palm, starting at the tip of his fingers, making their way to his wrist. "Or our thoughts even."

She watched him swallow hard at what she had said. It was the truest thing she could have said to him. "I care about you Carol," he started. When she opened her mouth to respond, he took his hand from her lap, cupped her cheek softly, pressing his thumb over her lips. "Let me finish or I ne'er will." she smiled, her lips twitching under his digit. "You are all I think about. All day, every day. I worry about you in a way I ne'er worried about anyone else, not e'en my family. I care. Alot." He couldn't say the three little words that were dancing on the end of his tongue. He wanted to. Instead he went a different route. "And I'm very sorry I didn't step in way back when we first met and put an end to your husband myself." Carol's eyes widened slightly. "No woman deserved what he did to you. I only wish I had done somethin earlier."

Tears shined in her eyes again, and she pressed her cheek into his hand, tears running across his finger tips. "There was nothin' you coulda done hon. That was my bed to lay in." Daryl opened his mouth but she cut him off. "It was. I should have left him long before but I was too weak. I didn't have the strength I have now, the strength you have shown me."

He didn't know what to say. He could feel tears in his own eyes. He closed them and leaned forward, burying his head in her neck. He brought his legs up, and curled on his side next to her, he placed his hand on her stomach.

They laid like that for a time. Neither knowing what to say to the other. Finally she laid a kiss on his forehead, and his hand snaked further across her belly, hooking over her hip on the other side, pulling her closer. She felt herself tense at the intimate contact, and Daryl's hand froze.

"Sorry," he muttered, sitting up, pulling away from her. She grabbed his hand before he could get off the bed.

"Stop apologizing for things you didn't do." Carol placed a cool hand on his cheek, making him look at her. Smiling softly, she leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on his stubbled cheek. "I have a few issues. Can you be patient with me for a bit longer?" she whispered, her voice almost cracking.

"Hell I had ta wait til the end of the world to meet you, woman. I think i can handle a bit more time," Daryl muttered, his breath hot on her cheek.

She smiled before pressing her lips to his, briefly before pulling back to settle on the pillows behind her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This isnt the end of my Caryl, just the end of this story. Please let me know what you think, and I'll gladly take requests, prompts or just simple ideas. I have two more stories started that will jump a little. Stay tuned. And thank you for all of your kind reviews thus far. They are appreciated. Keep 'em coming! They are like crack...


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